John, the town Guard - level ?? BloodBerserker

John had mixed feelings about change. Over the past week or so, he had become intimately familiar with it; change had become his constant companion.

Ever since his time spent in the tutorial realm everything had changed. many times, in fact. And not only had things changed, but things he hadn't even known could change had rapidly become capable of change. His capabilities changed, his ‘skills’ changed, the town had changed, local beasts changed- twisted by the system- and most noticeably, magic had changed entirely. The town had been turned upside-down by the sudden surge of magic in all of its citizens and with the introduction of ‘Classes’ and ‘Skills’, every soul had found themselves capable of wielding powers that they had only weeks before thought of as the territory of nobility, or those wealthy enough to afford to study the arcane for decades. Powerful magic was not meant for farmers or bakers and certainly not town criers. Magic expertise had become the norm for laymen, much more so than it had ever been before. The prospect of a visiting Mage or Aura Knight no longer sent the town's children into a frenzy. Magic was ubiquitous now, no longer a dream for ambitious youths who struggled to levitate small objects, or practising swordsmen who barely managed to infuse a mage's power into their swings. They had all changed and now had magic of their own. Well, Except for Fred. Fred didn't have shit.

John didn't feel bad for Fred, though. The unassuming town cobbler had somehow evaded magic's notice. And Fred had somehow turned his lack of magic into the most useful of tools.

Fred had a knack for survival.

The town, once a haven from the wilds, found itself besieged by creatures of all kinds, things twisted to become deadlier than ever- some becoming close to creatures of myth and nightmare. These beasts, emboldened by whatever changes had occurred during the system’s introduction, often expanded their territories or migrated after being ousted by stronger altered beasts. They often attacked the town and struck terror into the hearts of the newly empowered townsfolk. Occasionally John's nights had become a cacophony of roars and magical blasts as the townsfolk fought for their lives. Each week had broken with stories of narrow escapes and valiant stands, the town's history rewritten with each battle.

But Fred persisted, unharmed. John didn't think he'd ever seen a monster even try to attack Fred. Perhaps they considered the man too mundane to be worth consuming? John wondered.

Magic altered everything except for Fred, the cobbler. Fred’s life remained as it always was, repairing shoes and boots. As chaos reigned outside, Fred's shop was a haven of normalcy. He had sort of just appeared during the tutorial, an unassuming cobbler from a town no one had ever heard of who had no access to magic or skills- even with the system sweeping over the world and altering magic as they knew it. As far as John knew Fred couldn't do much, aside from mending shoes. But Fred’s mundanity had rendered him hard to notice at times. He was the kind of guy you wouldn't notice walking into a room, the kind of guy you'd find yourself surprised to see even though he had been standing beside you for the last ten minutes in a bright orange suit. The cobbler had an uncanny way of going beneath your notice until he was right up in your face. Was that strange? John questioned. It didn't feel strange.

Why was I thinking about Fred again? John wondered, as he tried to use his skills to channel the power of blood to strengthen himself and pressed into his wounds to stem the bleeding. Oh yeah, I was thinking about ‘change’, wasn't I?

His thoughts returned to the changes that had beset his beloved town in the past fortnite. And then they summarily returned to Fred. Amidst the maelstrom of arcane upheaval, there was the cobbler. While everyone and everything around John had changed, embracing newfound powers and evolution, Fred remained as he always was. Always?… John's thought was interrupted by the discrepancy. Where was I, John thought once more, as a large dark green wooden splinter the size of his arm crashed into the wall beside him with a shattering crack, a spray of lesser splinter clattering harmlessly across the marble floor he sat upon.

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Ah yes, he thought I was thinking about magic, wasn't I… And Fred.

John had visited Fred every few days after his battles defending the town and settlement, always to have his shoes repaired. And Fred had continued his work, attending to his craft with a steadiness that had become rare. Fred's life, unchanged by the magical chaos, made him an anomaly. He hadn't so much as received a bruise during the tutorial realm or their return from it. Neither had he slayed a monster, so far as John was aware.

Even when disappearances became common talk; people vanished without a trace, leaving behind a void of confusion and fear, Fred remained unscathed.

And those tales about system treasures on the other side of town? The large ‘incursion dungeon’? Yeah, no one who went looking for them came back. All the adventurers and travellers of all levels had failed to return from the dungeon. Except for Fred, he seemed to be the only person capable of traversing these new lands without significant notice or trouble. The rumours of World changing treasure within the dungeon on the other side of town had claimed many victims since their return besides that sole survivor. He claimed there was nothing to see, and that the dungeon had been empty. And yet still others failed to return.

Even during the tutorial, John had wondered what class Fred had, a part of him suspected that Cobbler didn't even have a class… There was something really strange about Fred, wasn't there?

John paused as a system notification alerted him to class-skill choice and without much thought or consideration, John selected his new active skill; Blood Manipulation. Information, senses, and instincts surged into his memories, implanting him with a beginner-level understanding of how to utilize his new skill. Pain and his flowing blood immediately lessened as he attempted to purify and retrieve his lost blood while stationary on the stone floor.

Where was I? He thought, once more, as he experimented with his new skill by turning a drop of his blood into a sharp glass-like structure.

Ah, yes. I was thinking about the town, he recalled.

At the receipt of a new skill, his thoughts once more returned to that of his beloved town.

In the tutorial realm, their settlement had been a magnet for monsters and saw regular attacks. Huge creatures had come each night, and it had taken all of the townspeople to use their magic to fight them off. Their return to Pyra hadn't changed that reality, it seemed. The system's new world had not given them a break. With every battle, they'd found new damage to repair and sometimes a hero who'd saved them.

And then there was Fred. He just kept fixing shoes.

***

As John walked, sword in hand, through the chamber of a hidden Arachnae Queen, he found himself feeling a little bit like Fred.

He felt ordinary.

Before he awoke in the hive of an Arachnae swarm. John had believed himself special. He believed that everyone was special in their own way- but he had felt as though he had been tapped into the qualities that made him special for as long as he could remember. He was special, had told him and had always considered himself so. The feeling he had felt his whole life had only been enhanced by the change that swept the new world. In the past few weeks his boldness had led him to race ahead to complete multiple quests with high contributions, he had even managed to find a hidden quest! One that he had wisely kept to himself, of course.

He had gained a special class and had special skills. He had defeated special beasts and faced the worst the system had to offer.

But now he stood facing down an unknown hive Queen, hidden deep underground. He found himself standing beside a girl who was apparently the world's first truly human-looking Arachnae- something indistinguishable from humanity that suggested a potential for infiltration that could end life as he knew it.

And finally, to his other side stood a man- Alex- whose strength and skill rivalled the most talented monsters of the tutorial, even appearing to exceed some at moments during his journey through the hive.

Amongst his current peers and enemies, John felt like Fred, mundane in a way that he could only hope would protect him. But he doubted his mundanity would serve him as well as it had served Fred.

John manipulated the surrounding ichor of fallen Arachnae into a rough and unwieldy gauntlet and a thick slab of hardened ichor coated his chest, serving as a bastardized chest plate. That way he wouldn't lose his grip on his sword or die at the first blow- he hoped.

He eyed the monstrosity before him as it exchanged words with the drifter girl, then turned to look at Alex who stood with his sword drawn, staring in another direction entirely.

His torso increased in bulk as layers of vital fluid continued to form in crude blocks over his vitals.

Blood and ichor solidified in malformed layers around him, and John breathed deep, preparing himself for the inevitable conflict.